Stormfly
by Song Of A Free Heart
Summary: SUPERHERO AU - She was trying to commission a custom leather jacket. The last thing she expected was to get dragged into a world of superheroes and villains. But somehow, when she falls in with the Big 4, that's exactly what Astrid gets. (Hiccstrid, Jackunzel, hints of MeridaxEret - I wasn't sure where else to put this story.)
1. Chapter 1: Start The Fall

**National Novel Writing Month kind of snuck up on… but I couldn't shake this idea, so I guess it all worked out. But do you know long it took me to name this baby? RIDICULOUSLY long (two months), considering how simple the name is. But I figure, if it works for Marvel, why can't it work for me? (Don't answer that.)**

**Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own **_**How To Train Your Dragon**_**, **_**Rise of the Guardians**_**, **_**Tangled**_**, **_**Brave**_**, or any other intellectual property contained herein. They are all the property of their individual owners, I'm just playing around in their sandboxes. **

_Stormfly_

Chapter 1: Start The Fall

In two years at Burgess University, Astrid had never been in the arts buildings. She was familiar with the building, since it was right across a courtyard from the athletics building, where she spent a majority of her time. But she had never had any reason to go in. She wasn't taking any art classes, and she didn't have any friends who were.

As soon as she stepped inside she was hit by the vibe that was nothing like any other building on campus. While art students went to the other buildings for non-art classes, this was their territory. They radiated some kind of creative aura that made the place feel like another world entirely.

Astrid couldn't help but feel like an outsider as she looked around the entryway. That was not a feeling she was used to – and definitely not a feeling she liked.

But she squared her shoulders and refused to be intimidated as she walked down the hallway. She was Astrid, after all.

The place was decorated with student work. Mostly framed pictures, but there were show cases for jewelry, sculptures, and the occasional clothing item.

As she walked down the checker board tiles of the hall, she inhaled, trying to get a grasp of her surroundings. But there were too many smells that she didn't recognize. (That was unnerving.) She did detect the smell of cold metal and car oil, though. Those were familiar and reassuring.

Halfway down the main hallway she found the art lab, thanks to the sign sticking out above the open door. She could hear the buzz of conversation from inside as she approached, along with the ringing of metal, and a whirring she couldn't identify.

Just as Astrid reached it, a young woman came out, looking back over her shoulder and nearly walking right into Astrid in her hurry. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Astrid said. The girl had managed to stop just before they collided.

The girl smiled, pushing a lock of short brown hair behind her ear. She had large green eyes, and what looked like a smudge of blue paint on her right cheek. "Hi. Can I help you?"

Astrid was fairly sure she had seen the brunette around campus, but couldn't remember exactly where.

She looked down the check the piece of paper Gobber had given her the day before, wondering if this would finally be the time that the name on it changed.

Nope. Still the same.

"I'm looking for someone called Hiccup – I was told he might be here?"

The girl's smile grew for some reason. "You're in luck – he just got here. Over in the corner." She pointed to the back, left corner, and Astrid leaned around the door to look.

Over at a long table set in the corner, a young man stood with his back to them, unwrapping a heavy bolt of brown leather. Was that a school supply? If not, what could anyone possibly need that much leather for?

"Thanks," Astrid said.

"No problem," the girl said cheerfully, before she started off down the hall.

Since Hiccup was still faced away from her, she couldn't get much of an impression. Just that he was tall and gangly, with tousled auburn hair, a dark green tshirt over a pair of jeans. Nothing special, she decided. Definitely nothing to be nervous about.

Not that she was looking into the lab, she saw that the whirring sound was a pottery wheel, where a dark haired girl was bent over a glob of grey clay. (Astrid suspected the clay was the main smell she couldn't identify.)

Assured that she knew exactly what she was getting herself into, Astrid entered the lab and approached the table where Hiccup was working.

He had one hand braced on the table's edge, while the other traced over the pages of a leather bound journal that lay open in front of him. Just as she came up behind him, he started to reach for a pen. He caught sight of her from the corner of his eye. His hand missed the pencil, and he stumbled before catching the edge of the table for balance.

"Stupid…" he muttered, scuffing his left foot over the concrete floor.

She was about to be unimpressed… but didn't get the chance.

Now that she saw his face, she decided she would have to rescind her "nothing special" judgment, since it had been very wrong. He had a lightly tanned, rectangular face, with deep set, forest green eyes. And he was not hard to look at.

"Uh, hi," he said, getting his balance back.

"Hi." Attractive, yes. But he was also awkward. She had never known it was possible for those two things to go together. "You're Hiccup?"

"The one and only," he said. "And you're Astrid."

That took her aback. "Have we met?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I follow local racing. And I used to work for Gobber."

Gobber had not mentioned that part. The old mechanic was notoriously difficult to work for, and most of his employees lasted only a couple months. She was sure she had forgotten plenty of those that hadn't been there long. But in that case, she was surprised _Gobber_ would remember him. He usually forget employees who still worked for him, never mind ones who weren't there anymore.

She decided not to worry about it. It wasn't worth the mental energy.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, after a moment of awkward silence.

Astrid searched her brain quickly to remember why she had come looking for him in the first place. This whole encounter had not gone anything how she expected.

"I'm looking to custom order a leather jacket," she said. "Gobber said you could do it for a reasonable price."

Hiccup had leaned back against the table, and when he heard that he rubbed his face. "You gotta be kidding."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Astrid demanded.

"No, sorry," he said, holding up a hand in apology. "Gobber just… never mind. Are you looking for something to wear when you race, or for every day?" He eyed the jacket she was wearing, which was worn at all the hems.

"The season ends next week," she reminded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Technically the racing season _was_ over. The local circuit was closed, and the school competitions were over as well. But the school still had its annual charity event before the summer sports officially moved over for the winter ones.

Hiccup held up his hands in defense. "Hey, it's two different things – I just want to make sure we're on the same page. If you wanted something for next week's race I'd have to say no, since I don't have time."

Okay, he had a good point. Astrid decided to ease up a little. "How long would it take you to make an everyday jacket?"

"Depends," he shrugged. "Two or three weeks, if things go smoothly."

How likely was that? Astrid wondered. But she decided not to ask that out loud.

"If you're looking for something custom, you're probably not looking for something normal," he added after a moment. "Especially if Gobber sent you to me. Hopefully." The last word was muttered, and his eyes slid to the side, so she got the impression it wasn't directed at her.

She did not like feeling as though she were missing something important.

Exhaling, she tried to find the best way to phrase what she wanted. It was one thing to tell Gobber what she wanted, since she had known the mechanic as long as she could remember. Telling someone else was strange, since she knew it might sound weird. She settled on plain and simple.

"I want something that would look kind of like armor," she said. "Gobber seemed to think that was right up your alley."

Hiccup grinned, as though it were some kind of inside joke.

"Like what Night Fury wears?" he asked. He seemed to be amused by the idea, though she wasn't sure why that would be funny.

She scowled slightly. At the reference, and at her own confusion.

Night Fury was a member for the Big 4 – Burgess' local team of superhero wannabes. General consensus was that they were a public nuisance who caused more problems than they actually solved (if they solved any at all) – which Astrid was inclined to agree with. Her brother, Anders, seemed to think they were heroes, though she had never been able to understand that view.

All four members had distinct personalities and appearances. But Night Fury stood out because he rode on a black dragon with a forty-five foot wingspan. That kind of thing left an impression in people's minds.

Astrid might have been impartial towards the whole thing, if she hadn't been forced to listen to her father complain about them so many times. And especially if Anders hadn't actually fought with their father over it.

"Not that bulky, but kinda, yeah," she admitted, thinking about the layers of black and brown leather armor that Night Fury wore.

Hiccup had already picked up his journal and started sketching. She noticed that he was left-handed, and his brows furrowed as he worked.

"How much will this cost?" Astrid asked, realizing she should have asked that soon. Gobber had said "reasonable price", but who knew what that meant. After a summer of racing, money wasn't really a problem. But she had no intention of paying considerably more than she would for a regular jacket.

He didn't look up from his notebook. "Depends on how much times and material it takes. Do you have a budget?"

"Can we keep it in the two fifty range?" That was reasonable, she thought. It was about what she had paid for the jacket she wore now.

"Easy," he said," before turning the journal around for her to see the rough sketch he had drawn up.

Astrid frowned again. "I don't _want_ it to look like Night Fury."

Bad enough someone on campus had started selling tshirts with the Big 4's symbols – and people were wearing them. The last thing she needed was for someone to think she was some kind of groupie.

"Hey, I had two minutes," he said, shrugging. The motion wasn't confined to just his shoulders – his arms, hands and fingers all got involved. "It's a starting point."

She considered the sketch again.l As a starting point… Okay, she couldn't deny that was the look she was going for. "Yeah. But the buckle over the shoulder is ridiculous."

"It's not—" He stopped himself and shook his head. He started to say something else, but didn't get a chance before his phone went off.

He sighed in exasperation as he pulled the device from his back pocket. Astrid saw his mouth tighten as he read whatever was on the screen.

"Sorry," he said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. "I've gotta run. If you come back tomorrow I should have some sketches done, and we can work out details."

He was moving even as he talked, throwing his journal into his messenger bag and hastily rerolling the bolt of leather, which he threw over his shoulder.

Astrid actually had to blink, trying to keep up with how fast the situation had changed. One second he had been still, the next he had shut down everything with an efficiency that both surprised and impressed her.

And he was already headed for the door.

"Yeah, sure," she said, trying to keep up. That was not something she enjoyed. "What time?"

"Any time after one," he said, turning to speak, but not coming to a full stop.

Astrid was half following, since she had no purpose in the art lab. Just as she reached the door she looked to her right, in the direction he had gone.

He went to set his left foot down on the laminated four but stumbled, as though the foot were giving him trouble with the added weight of the leather. But he took it in stride, shifting his feet and his center of balance to avoid falling. Judging by the precise movements, they were well practiced.

That surprised her, since he didn't seem like someone with a lot of physical training. He looked more like the kind who hung in the back during gym class, praying no one noticed him. What little she knew of Hiccup was leaving her without a way to form a solid opinion of him.

Then he was gone around the corner, and she was still trying to process what had just happened.

She decided to shake it off and keep moving.

Back outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh air as she walked towards her motorcycle, expelling the art building from her lungs.

On the way back to her apartment, she stopped at the nearest Starbucks – a favorite hang out for students from the college.

Just as she pulled off her helmet, something over her head caused a rush of wind that blew her hair around her face with a force she felt all over.

Looking up, her breath caught as she saw the long body of a dragon gliding twenty feet or so above her head, towards downtown.

They moved too fast for her to register details about the dragon, or to catch a glimpse of its leather clad rider. As she had been several times, she was struck by the fact its left tail fin was bright red, while the one on the right was as black as the rest of its body.

A black and blue clad figure tumbled through the air towards the dragon, accompanied by a rush of cold that elicited a shiver when it reached her. Jack Frost.

On the sidewalks, nearly everyone had pulled out their phones to snap pictures. A few had started running towards downtown. Something was obviously going on for them to be flying out in the open in broad daylight – and flying so low.

But wherever the Big 4 went, there was usually property damage, to say the least. So why people wanted to be there was beyond Astrid. It seemed a lot safer to just watch it on the news – if you insisted on watching it. She didn't understand why people seemed to enjoy watching the Big 4's fights so much. What was the point? Of course, she had never been big on spectator sports of any kind.

She watched until they were out of sight, wondering what was happening only in as far as it might affect her. If something was going to prevent her from getting her coffee (if something was about to crush Starbucks, for example), or prevent her from getting home, she kind of wanted some kind of warning.

She had only seen the Big 4 in person once or twice. And this was the closest she had ever been.

Shaking it off, she headed into Starbucks for her latte. If anything did crush the place, maybe she could be in and out before it did.

Inside, the smell of coffee mingled with the buzz of agitated conversation. People leaned over their phones and tablets in a way that could only mean they were watching the news.

Astrid rolled her eyes as she approached the counter.

"Who's downtown?" one of the baristas asked. "Have they said?" She leaned over the counter, towards the kid who sat at the nearest table, with his laptop and several abandoned books.

"Gothel," he said, adjusting his glasses, and not looking away from the screen. "She's got a bunch of thugs, but I don't see the Stabbington Brothers."

"I think the brothers are still in jail," the barista said.

Astrid lost interest at that point. If it was Gothel, it probably wasn't going to affect her.

Gothel and her thugs weren't after destruction, or control of the city. They were just in it for the money. Usually she went for one of the banks. The worst she did was attack City Hall in an attempts to hold some officials hostage for a ransom. "Attempt" being the operative word, since she (as usual), she hadn't gotten very far.

Thankfully, there was a second barista, who didn't seem at all interested in the fight, since she was wiping down the counters. She put the rag down when she saw Astrid approaching the register.

"Don't they have anything better to do?" the barista asked, coming up to the register as well. Her name was Tiana, according to her nametag.

"Who?" Astrid asked. "People, or the Big 4?"

Tiana snickered. "What can I get for you?"

"A grande caramel latte," she said, pulling her wallet from the pocket of her worn leather jack. Hopefully Hiccup could get her new one down quickly, before this one fell to pieces.

Once Tiana handed back the gift card Astrid used to pay, she went to the espresso machine. She didn't bother to try and tear her coworker away from the conversation with Laptop Boy.

Astrid didn't pay attention to the conversation, not giving another thought to the ongoing fight.

Not until Tablet Boy jolted half out of his chair with a wordless exclamation.

"What?" The barista asked. "_What?_" She was leaning so far over the counter she seemed just about ready to jump over the counter to see what was happening on the screen. Astrid actually felt sorry for her.

A moment later, all that was forgotten, though.

"Night Fury just fell of the dragon!"


	2. Chapter 2: Adrenaline Rush

**I AM SO, SO SORRY! As some of you guessed, I posted the wrong chapter, and I am so sorry!**

**The reaction to this story has been so much more than I ever could have hoped for – thank you so much you guys!**

**As to the guest review I received this morning: Don't worry – I'm not interested in portraying Astrid as ignorant in any way. The beauty of Hiccstrid is that these two are equals, in large part because their strengths and weaknesses balance each other out. **

**As is my pattern, I'm sure there are some missing words in here, so feel free to point them out to me. **

**Enjoy the show, guys!**

Chapter 2: Adrenaline Rush

Astrid wasn't quite sure how she ended up behind Laptop Boy's chair, shoulder to shoulder with the barista as they watched the images flashing across the screen. She wasn't sure why she cared.

But as soon as he had said that Night Fury had fallen, the barista had vaulted over the counter, and Astrid had followed without thinking.

It was a lot worse than she had assumed from "Night Fury fell off his dragon".

Burgess University had been voted to have the most extreme sports team in the country, and Astrid had a full scholarship to the University because she was _on_ that team. Between that, and racing in the local circuits, she had seen people fall and crash. Motorcycle crashes were bad because the rider often ended up with a six hundred pound motorcycle on top of them, if they weren't thrown a couple hundred feet. Especially when that motorcycle had been going an excess of 80 miles an hour. That was bad. And that was along the lines of what she had expected. But she had forgotten about the involvement of a dragon.

This was so much worse.

The camera was focused on dragon and rider. The same way her eyes were focused on the laptop screen.

They were up among the tops of the skyscrapers, both spinning and tumbling as they plunged down…

…down…

…down…

They bother reached for each other, their movements obviously frantic. Night Fury was trying to grab onto the saddle.

How did this happen?" Barista Girl asked, just as Astrid was about to ask why the dragon couldn't fly on its own.

Laptop Boy shook his head. "The camera was on Braveheart until someone in the crowd screamed."

Braveheart – the red haired archer.

On the back of his chair, Astrid's hands clenched the wooden bar so tightly the tendons of her knuckles ached.

"This has happened before," Barista Girl said, but she was clearly trying to reassure herself.

"That doesn't mean they're going to make it this time," Astrid said. Her stomach clenched tighter with each passing second. She was unable to tear her eyes away from night Fury as he and the dragon continued to scramble.

Just because she had run a track before didn't mean she wouldn't mess up the next time.

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"Frost and Braveheart are pinned down," Laptop Boy said. "Sun Flower isn't there. Come on. Come on."

Night Fury reached out, and for a moment it looked as though he had gotten a hold of the saddle. Astrid was surprised at the strength of her relief.

But a moment later it became clear that he had missed.

And they were getting closer to the ground.

The dragon roared. A panicked sound made them all wince.

"Oh, stars," Astrid whispered.

She didn't want to see this. She really didn't want to see what she was about to happen. But when she tried to look away, her eyes refused to obey her brain.

A blue glow started at the bottom of the screen. At first she ignored it. When it grew stronger, she thought something was wrong with the laptop. For an instant she thought maybe the device was going to die. Wouldn't that just fit.

Then Night Fury hit a ramp made of white blue ice.

Jack Frost, she realized. The glow had been his powers as he made the ramp.

"That's brilliant!" Laptop Boy exclaimed.

Night Fury slid down the ice ramp, the dragon a foot or so behind him. The camera followed them down the ramp's subtle decline until it leveled out and they slowed to a stop.

Astrid felt her shoulders sagged in relief.

The dragon rolled a couple times, growling in his throat as he slipped and slid across the ice in an attempt to get back on its feet. Night Fury was going a similar dance. His metal peg leg seemed to give him a hard time as he tried to get his feet back under him.

And then Braveheart was running onto the screen, her curly red hair bouncing with her movements. Hew bow was in one hand, and she reached the other out to Night Fury. He seemed to accept it without hesitation, though it was hard to see since his spiked helmet covered his whole face.

In one movement pilled him off the feet and onto his feet. No sooner did he have his balance then she punched his shoulder so hard he stumbled back and she yelled something at him. They weren't close enough to the camera for her to hear what she was saying. But Astrid got the impression it was something along the lines of "don't ever do that again!"

In only a few seconds the archer had calmed down, though her mouth was still moving.

Night Fury nodded, going over to the dragon that was now back on his feet and shaking his head. He stretched his massive black wings, and rose onto his back legs with a roar so loud it rattled the laptop's speakers, which had suddenly gone tinny as they tried to process the sound.

Astrid could hear it coming from all five devices that weren't hooked up to headphones. One girl _with_ headphones scrambled to throw them off it was so loud.

"Gothel is done," Astrid murmured, staring at the fury she could see in every line of the dragon's frame. His teeth weren't exactly sharp or terrifying. But with the way they were currently bared, Astrid decided she really wouldn't want to be on that creature's bad side.

As soon as the dragon had returned to all fours, he looked back at his rider expectantly. Could that kind of intelligence in a dragon be real? She didn't think she was imagining it.

Night Fury nodded again, running over to jump into the saddle.

The camera panned out again, and for the first time Astrid could see Jack Frost on the roof of City Hall. He was currently taking on three of Gothel's thugs alone. Of course, he was the only one of his teammates currently fighting.

He was quick, and light on his feet. Always moving. And never going where you expected. He lunged towards one thug, then you blinked and he was sweeping the legs out from under another one. He had no trouble holding his own, and Astrid had to admit she was impressed.

She had watched the Big 4 fight only one other time, not long after they had first appeared in the city. They had struggled both in the fight, and in trying to function cohesively as a team. She had gotten the impression that they barely knew each other.

Actually, there had only been three of them. Night Fury, Sun Flower, and Braveheart, who was the obvious wild card. And they had been fighting Jack Frost. How he had evended up on the team, Astrid couldn't begin to guess. Though it had certainly been talked about enough when it happened.

Three years ago, Frost had taken on the others and won with very little trouble. She was pretty sure he had been laughing while he left them in the dust. Astrid had certainly been rolling her eyes as she walked away from the TV.

Now, it was completely different. Sun Flower wasn't there, but the other three were obviously familiar with each other. They had developed their skills, and figured out how to work with each other.

Frost paused, touching his ear (and earpiece?), even as one of the thugs started toward him. He didn't even appear to glance over at the attacker. He flicked a wrist, and the thug's feet were frozen to the roof.

He nodded, and turned back to the rest of his opponents. A couple more had gotten up, so he was facing four.

"What is he doing?" Barista Girl asked, as Frost flew around the thugs, forcing them to take a step back, closer to each other, and away from Gothel.

When Astrid had been young, she had visited her grandparents' farm nearly every summer, where she had been required to help with the chores. Many times she had watched the two dogs heard the flock of sheep, moving them from one pasture to another. So she recognized exactly what Frost was doing.

"He's herding them away from Gothel," she said.

He had already proven that he could have just frozen them to the roof, so he was obviously playing with them. And probably enjoying the game.

The camera left Frost, and focused again on Night Fury as he swooped towards Gothel.

The woman coward on the roof of City Hall, arms raised to shield her face as he landed right on top of her.

Actually, Night Fury didn't seem to have anything to do with it. The dragon appeared to be in control.

Astrid's stomach clenched again as the dragon pulled his head back, mouth open and teeth bared. Was he going to bite the woman in hald? Or hit her with a blast of fire? She didn't really want to see either. And the wavering camera told her the cameraman was ready to avert the lens at any moment.

Had the Big 4 ever killed anyone? She didn't think so.

The dragon roared again, and Gothel tried to edge away. She was on her back, with the dragon's paws pinning her down. The sound waves seemed to paralyze her. Astrid wondered if the woman's life was flashing before her eyes.

The roar ended, leaving a strange, reverberating silence, both through the speakers, and in Starbucks. It didn't even seem as though anyone was breathing. Astrid certainly wasn't.

They all waited for the axe to fall.

Instead, the dragon surged forward. As first Astrid thought they were just going to leave Gothel there. It certainly didn't look as though she were going anywhere of her own volition any time soon. But the dragon swooped towards the camera. It was a credit to the cameraman that he didn't shy away – which was why they were able to see Gothel dangling limply from the dragon's claws.

They deposited Gothel just inside the police barricade that had been set up to keep people away from the fight. (What did it say about human stupidity that a barricade was actually needed?)

The camera followed Night Fury and the dragon as they circled the plaza. At first she thought maybe it was a victory lap (even she would admit that they had earned one). But then she saw Braveheart still standing by the ice ramp. She reached up a gloved hand, and Night Fury leaned over to grab it. The dragon rose higher as Braveheart vaulted up into the saddle.

As they flew over City Hall, Frost jumped off the roof, the wind catching him. Gothel's thugs were all trapped in carious sized blocks of ice. Either frozen tot eh rood, or bodies incased from the neck down.

Speaking of.

The camera cut back to the heap on the ground that was Gothel. She was just starting to rise to her feet, though visibly shaken. Astrid was impressed the woman actually made it to her feet at all. But wasn't surprised when Gothel's legs gave out and she fell back to the ground. The laughter over the speakers was echoed in Starbucks.

Astrid found her heart coming down from a racing rhythm, and she felt the slight tremor she always got when adrenaline started to wear off.

Well, now she understood why people seemed to like watching these fights so much. For someone who wasn't a stunt rider, used to the adrenaline rush that came from actually being in the action, this would probably feel like a buzz.

Astrid backed away from laptop Boy's chair, taking her steps carefully to ensure she didn't end up doing an impression of Gothel's collapse.

Laptop Boy and Barista Girl were talking animatedly, drowning out the TV journalist, who was conducting an on-the-spot interview with one of the police officers.

In the background, Astrid could see the ice ramp Frost had created. It extended almost the full length of the plaza. The camera hadn't shown it in the heat of the fight, but Frost had known exactly what he was doing.

The incline started out steep so it wouldn't cause a dangerous jolt, before it leveled out, extending almost the entire length of the plaza so that they wouldn't run out of ice before they ran out of momentum. The ramp itself was curved like a waterslide, so they wouldn't fall off.

She caught sight of the fountain in the center of the plaza as well, which was frozen solid as well.

As the camera panned around to the reporter, Astrid saw that one of the statues in front of City hall had been knocked over and fallen to pieces.

"Camicazi, if you don't get back to work, I will tell the manager," Tiana called.

Barista Girl – Camicazi, apparently – jolted and looked back at the counter.

"Oh, right." She went back around the counter, to where a couple customers had come up to the register now that the excitement was over.

That was enough to get Astrid moving as well.

"Don't forget your drink," Tiana called, as Astrid started towards the door. She went back to grab her latte before heading outside.

Leaning back against her motorcycle, Astrid exhaled as she took a sip of her drink. The last of her adrenaline was fading, though she expected it would be a while before she fully relaxed.


	3. Chapter 3: Come Back Down

**You guys are amazing. That's all there is to it. And again, I am REALLY sorry about the confusion last chapter. ^^'**

**I tried to find a way to fit into the last chapter that Laptop Boy was Fishlegs… but it didn't come up. Now you know.**

Chapter 3: Come Back Down

"Let's not to that again," Hiccup said shakily, pulling off his helmet now that he was back on the ground and away from cameras. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he unhooked his prosthetic foot from Toothless's saddle.

"Agreed," Jack said, rubbing his shoulder. He had been forced to turn around from his own fight to create the ice ramp, and he had been tackled to the ground by one of the thugs. One who probably looked worse for wear because of that stunt.

Merida, already out of the saddle, grunted something that sounded like an agreement.

They were inside the garage of the ranch house they all lived in. It was far enough from the city (and everything else) that Hiccup could keep a dragon without drawing attention. And since he had inherited it on his father's death, it saved them all a lot of money they didn't have for rent.

As soon as Hiccup was on the concrete floor, Toothless turned to nudge his hand with his scaly nose.

Hiccup grinned as he touched the dragon's forehead, rubbing the side of his neck. "You okay, Bud?"

Toothless gave a gummy smile, bobbing his head in what Hiccup believed to be a nod, before he bumped his head against Hiccup's chest.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said, exhaling. "Shaken, but okay."

He had fallen off Toothless before. Everything from being knocked off, to losing his grip in the middle of a loop when they were upside down. He was usually able to get back in the saddle and pull up, though. This was the first time one of the others had had to save him. It was an experience he hoped he never had to repeat.

From the way his best friend was nuzzling him, Toothless felt the same way.

"Where's Rapunzel?" Jack asked suddenly, looking around the garage that usually held five of them, instead of just four.

Hiccup had to rack his brain for a minute to remember what Rapunzel had said before she left the art lab that afternoon. His normally well ordered thoughts were currently a mess.

"She went to the art store in Bellevue," he said. "The one in town is out of her normal paints."

"Then I'm gonna go order take out," Merida said, stretching her arms above her head as she turned towards the door into the main house. Her quiver bounced against her hip as she moved, her bow collapsed and clipped to the harness on her back.

"Not pizza!" Jack called.

Merida waved him off, then closed the door behind her.

Hiccup chuckled, still petting the dragon that had begun rubbing up against him like an oversized cat.

"You okay?" Jack asked after a minute.

"Yeah," Hiccup said, nodding. "Thanks, Jack."

Jack shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Eh, I owe you."

As far as Hiccup was concerned, any debt Jack owed him had long since been repaid. But his friend held onto the belief that he was still indebted, and Hiccup had given up trying to convince him otherwise.

Toothless pranced over to Jack, nuzzling his side in thanks.

Jack grinned, scratching the dragon's forehead. "No problem, Toothless."

Deciding that he had sufficiently paid his gratitude, Toothless returned to Hiccup's side.

"All I want to do now is eat and crash," Hiccup said, rubbing his face. With adrenaline draining from his system, exhaustion was setting in.

"I like that plan," Jack said.

Hiccup started to nod, but groaned as he remembered. "I can't."

"Why not?" Jack asked. "Please don't say homework."

Looked up at his friend, Hiccup tried to fight back his grin. "Guess who came to commission me today."

"You only get that dopey grin when Astrid is involved," Jack said. "Seriously, dude, work on that."

He gave up trying to hide. "She wants a new leather jacket that looks like armor."

"Right up your alley."

"I had to run out when I got your text, but I promised I'd have some ideas for her tomorrow."

"So do it tomorrow morning," Jack said.

"I have to sleep on it," Hiccup reminded. It was one of his artistic quirks, that he had to draw something, sleep on it, and decide the next day if he actually liked it. After his brain had a chance to mull it over.

Jack, who was not an artist, shrugged. "But, hey. It's Astrid."

"I'm pretty sure she had no clue who I was before Gobber recommended me," Hiccup said. "Remind me to thank him for that. He seems to think he's some kind of match maker."

"She knows who you are now," Jack pointed out. Rapunzel's optimism must be rubbing off on him.

Hiccup nodded, scratching Toothless's forehead again.

They both looked up at the sound of a car approaching the garage, and Hiccup noticed Jack's expression change the moment they recognized the car.

"You know, you give me such a hard time for my 'dopey grin', but you're not much better when Rapunzel walks in."

"Shut up," Jack said.

Rapunzel pulled up just outside the door of the garage, since the garage never actually held cars. Only humans, dragons, and equipment. She threw open the garage and half flew into the garage, straight towards Hiccup.

Toothless perked up the moment she came into the garage, leaving Hiccup's side to head butt her hand.

"Hey, Toothless," she said, glancing at the dragon as she began to scratch him from habit. She immediately looked back at Hiccup, her green eyes wide with concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Hiccup assured, "Jack caught us just in time."

"You're sure?" she asked. "I mean—"

"We're both fine," Hiccup said, realizing this was just a warm up for when his mother got him. "I promise."

Rapunzel hesitated a moment before throwing her arms around him in a relieved hug. Hiccup smiled as he returned the hug with equal strength. He and Rapunzel had, at some point, come to look at each other as the siblings they had never had. Which meant he got even more of her worry than the others. (Not even Jack, who seemed more than capable of taking care of himself.)

"He's fine – I'm the one who get bruised," Jack said after a moment, as much to help Hiccup as to get her attention probably.

Rapunzel pulled back, and Hiccup saw a blush dusting over her cheeks even as she turned to jack with a playful smirk that bordered on flirtatious.

"What? Tough guy Jack Frost can't handle getting knocked around?" she asked, hands cocked on her hips.

Jack scoffed in mock indignation. "I can handle it. But I wouldn't mind some sympathy. Or gratitude. I did save Hiccup's like, ya know."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. So much for "I owe you".

"Did you get what you needed?" Hiccup asked, before the air could get any thicker with their romantic tension.

"I did," Rapunzel said. "I brought food, too."

"You better go stop Merida before she orders more," Hiccup chuckled. Though food rarely went to waste in their house.

Rapunzel nodded, going back to pull out the bags of food and art supplies from the passenger seat. She headed into the house, but paused in front of Jack. With a warm smile, she rose on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Jack," she said, before vanishing into the house.

Hiccup quirked an eyebrow at the lopsided grin spreading across his friend's face.

Jack's powers receded, white hair and blue eyes turning a warm brown, his skin taking on a warmer tone that spread from the place Rapunzel had kissed.

Jack had been flirting with Rapunzel even before his rehabilitation. Mostly in a teasing way. Since he had joined the team though, Hiccup had watched his whole attitude towards Rapunzel ship. All the cockiness had faded, just as his powers did, until even Hiccup was no longer uncomfortable with the thought of them together. Not he was just wondering why Jack wouldn't actually make a move so their relationship would be official.

They both watched her go.

Toothless looked at Hiccup, debating if his human needed him. He seemed to decide that Hiccup was safe for the time being, because he followed Rapunzel, and the smell of food. It never stopped being funny, how the 1800 pound dragon had to twist his body to get through a doorway that was too narrow for him. Which might be part of why Hiccup kept procrastinating on his plan to widen it.

After girl and dragon were gone, the friends looked at each other, their amusement fading quickly.

"I keep trying to figure out if it's a good thing that she doesn't mention Gothel," Jack said. "She agrees she shouldn't be there when we fight her, but the last few times, she hasn't said anything."

"Maybe you should ask your Psychology professor," Hiccup said. "I don't know." Hiccup wanted to brush it off – it didn't seem like too big a deal. But it was a serious question, and something that might have to be addressed.

Another moment passed, then Jack yawned. "Well, you can do your drawings. I'm gonna eat and crash."

They both went into the house, through the laundry/mud room, and down a short hallway to the spacious kitchen, were Rapunzel and Merida were serving Chinese food onto plates. Merida still wore her Braveheart uniform. They talked animatedly, both laughing. Toothless had taken a seat on the wooden floor where he was out of the way, but close enough to be sure he wouldn't be left out when feeding time came. Not that Rapunzel would forget him.

Jack, his powers still down so he looked like a normal person, began setting the table with plates, chopsticks, and glasses of water.

A fresh wave of fatigue washed over Hiccup, and he stumbled slightly, until he leaned against the wall.

He had come very close to dying just a couple hours earlier. He'd had a few near death experiences before. He was missing his left leg to prove it. It was inevitable as a dragon rider with serious thrill issues, and as a vigilante. But today…

If Jack hadn't acted when he did, even a second or two later, Hiccup didn't think he or Toothless would have made it. The whole thing was terrifying and surreal, and it kept hitting him.

But he was there. He was alive. He was listening to Jack and Merida bicker good naturedly as they prepared for what was, essentially, a family dinner. A bit of a ragtag family, but a family none the less.

He took a deep breath. And when he exhaled, he expelled all the fear from earlier. Instead, he decided to count his blessings: that he was still alive, and he had his friends.

The front door opened, and Valka Haddock came in. Hiccup braced himself for having to reassure her that, yes, he was fine. But at the same time, he was glad to see her.

Pushing away from the wall, he went over to meet her in the living room. She looked him over with obvious concern, searching for any sign of an injury. Before she could ask if he was all right – or some variation there of – he pulled her into a hug.

He had always struggled, standing next to his mountain of a father. But with his mother, who had the same lean build he did, when he hugged her, he knew just from the feel of her that they were flesh and blood.

He was still wearing his Night Fury armor, the buckles and gadgets not entirely comfortable when it came to hugging. But at the moment, he didn't really care.

He had taken Valka by surprise, and it took a moment for her to respond. When she did, though, he relaxed into the hug.

"Oh, Hiccup," she whispered, her arms tightening around his shoulders.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hiccup registered that the others had fallen silent.

"I love you, Mom."

Valka's shoulders shuddered with either a laugh or a sob, he couldn't be sure. Her hold on him tightened.

His hands clenched the fabric of her back, not wanting to let go.

"I love you, too, Hiccup," she said.

Tomorrow he would face whatever needed to be faced. And there would be plenty to deal with.

For that moment, he was grateful just to be alive.


	4. Chapter 4: You Know My Name

**For the past week, I've been on vacation from work, so I've had plenty of time to work on this story. But since this period of rest is now over, my updates won't be so frequent. Since this was my National Novel Writing Month project, most of the rough draft is done (there's a few chapters I want to add here and there. And I need to write the ending…), but it will still take me longer once I'm back at work. (whisperssaveme) Just so you know. **

**Actually, with chapters 1-3, I had rewritten them on in the past few weeks. But from here on, I haven't really looked at it for almost two months. So I was typing up the exchange between Jack and Rapunzel and Rapunzel going "is there a point to this, or was my Jackunzel showing?" Then I was like "oh yeah, foreshadowing." **

**Carry on!**

Chapter 4: You Know My Name

Astrid had an eleven-thirty class, so she would have no problem being in the art lab at one, or there about. She arrived early, so she took her usual seat and pulled out her phone.

The Burgess Daily website had six articles about the Big 4's fight the previous day. Everything from the front page article about _what_ had happened, and editorials as to why the Big 4 were public menaces, to an editorial about what a bad influence when society should be focusing on solving problems without violence.

Astrid wasn't a pacifist by any means: she was inclined to think life would be a whole lot simpler if things were still solved through fists. If words were going to work with someone like Gothel, it would have worked a long time ago. And if they didn't work on Gothel, how would they work on the more sinister members of the Big 4's rogue gallery. She might not have paid much attention over the years, but Mor'du didn't seem like the kind of person to listen to reason.

And did anyone want to get close enough to Pitch Black to talk to him?

Gothel herself had been carted off to the prison, and she had still been so shaken from her encounter with the dragon she hadn't protested at all. Not until much later, anyway.

Astrid wasn't sure any more what she thought about the Big 4. She knew her opinion had changed, she just wasn't sure how much. All she knew was that she was thinking about them a lot. Especially about Night Fury and the fall.

Two hundred and seventeen feet.

It was agreed that Night Fury had fallen approximately two hundred and seventeen feet. She kept trying to comprehend what it must be like, to fall that far.

Of course, that also included the estimated three foot height of Jack Frost's ice ramp – which had already started to melt down before anything could measure it. It had melted down to big puddle, of course, but people still seemed to find some problem with it.

They were also complaining about the broken statue, and how much that would cost to replace. Along with the fact that one of the pipes in the frozen fountain had burst from the cold. That would also need to be repaired. Astrid rolled her eyes and hit the back button.

He had still fallen more than two hundred feet.

She told herself she wouldn't, but she still ended up watching the video of the fall that was embedded in the main article. Her stomach clenched and twisted as Night Fury plunged downward, frantically reaching out to his dragon. And the dragon did the same, scratching as the air with his large claws to try and catch his rider.

"Astrid?"

It took considerable effort for Astrid to tear her eyes away from the screen. Looking up, she found a petite brunette standing in from of her desk. After a moment Astrid recognized her as the one who had pointed her towards Hiccup in the art lab the day before. Though the smudge of blue paint had been washed off. Her brown bangs were held back with a wide purple headband, showing off her heart shaped face.

"Yeah?" Astrid pulled out one of her ear buds.

The girl smiled, not seeming to notice Astrid's wariness. She took a manila envelope from the stack of books she carried, and handed it to her. "Hiccup asked me to give these to you."

"Oh, thanks." Astrid accepted the envelope. Her name – Astrid Hofferson – was written across the front in a neat, blocky hand.

The brunette smiled again before she headed to a seat by one of the windows.

Forgetting about the girl, Astrid opened the envelope and pulled out three sheets of paper. Their thickness and tooth suggested they had been taken from a sketch book. On each was a detailed jacket design. Each was slightly different in cut and detail, and included a price based on estimated supply and labor.

She forgot about the video of Night Fury's fall as she looked at the designs and tried to figure out which she liked best. One was, again, too similar to Night Fury's armor for her taste… but she hesitated before casting it off. Because she did like the design.

By the time the teacher called the class to order, at eleven twenty-eight, she was mostly decided on the second design. She didn't fully put them away, occasionally pulling them out to glance at when she got bored with the class.

She had been thinking about commissioning a custom jacket for a couple years now, since her racing had started providing enough in the way of funds to make the idea plausible. Though she had been forced to put the thought aside for a while when she had decided to move into her own apartment.

She would never admit it aloud, but seeing the designs Hiccup had drawn – which were exactly what she'd had in mind – got her a little excited.

Partway through class, she glanced over at the girl who had delivered the designs. She sat in the sunlight that came through the window, chewing on the eraser of her pencil as she looked down at her work. Occasionally she glanced up at the teacher for a moment or two.

Class was let out eight minutes early – the teacher as eager as any of the students to get it over with.

Most students shoved their things into their bags and flooded out of the room. But Astrid wasn't in a hurry – she had nothing to do before she went to the art lab. So she leaned back in her chair, ignoring the people walking around her, as she took her time gathering her thing.

After a moment an indignant "hey!" from the doorway made her glance over.

"Sorry," said the young man who had just come into the room, without glancing back at the boy he had bumped into. He pulled down the hood of his blue sweatshirt as he made a b line for the seat by the window where the brunette still sat. His brown hair was a windblown mess, but his grin was impossible to miss. "Hey."

The brunette smiled at him, a feint blush growing on her cheeks."Hey. I have your lunch." She reached into her messenger bad and pulled out what looked like a Japanese bento box. "It's leftovers from last night. Don't worry – no fried rice."

"Thank you," she said, accepting the lunch. "I have Modern Events next, and after yesterday, Tremaine is going to be insufferable."

Astrid didn't _try_ to eavesdrop, but they weren't exactly keeping their voices down in the otherwise quiet classroom.

"Are you okay?" the girl asked, her voice taking on a deep note of concern.

He shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose, but even Astrid could tell from his posture that he was feigning nonchalance. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"But you went to bed right after dinner,"

He shifted from one foot to the other, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

Astrid didn't catch what the girl said next, but thought she might have heard the word "nightmare".

He shrugged again. "Yesterday was kinda… Never mind. I gotta get to Modern Events, because I am a masochist. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said, his deep voice taking on a mischievous tilt. "I'll see you at home. Thanks again for lunch." He had already started walking backwards, but when he finished he spun on his heel towards the door. He caught sight of Astrid (who pretended not to be watching).

She wasn't sure how to interoperate the way the corner of his mouth quirked upward when he saw her. But she didn't miss it.

He did a mock two fingered salute as he passed her. "Astrid."

It was starting to bug her how everyone seemed to know her name.

#

She took her time making her way toward the art lab, stopping at the student café to pick up a sandwich for a quick lunch.

She was passing the athletics building when the doors opened and a wave of students came out, just leaving either a classroom or the locker rooms. They clustered into groups. Talking to friends. Except for one girl, who left the others behind with her brisk, purposeful stride. She was impossible to miss, with a lion's mane of red hair that bounced around her with every long step she took. She had a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, but it didn't seem to slow her down.

Astrid kept walked as well, until she reached the art building.

The halls were more crowded than they had been the day before, since it was earlier in the day. It made that creative vibe so much stronger, and a few people eyed her as though she were a trespasser on sacred ground.

Yeesh. Intense much?

She reached the lab and peered around the doorway to see if Hiccup was there.

Like the hall, it was busier than yesterday. All four pottery wheels were in use, whirring away. At one table a boy worked at what looked as though it might become a bust sculpture. On the far wall, under an open window, a girl wielded a blowtorch over something wedged into what looked like a brick.

Hiccup, and his ridiculous bolt of brown leather, were at the same work table he had been at the day before. Once more he had unrolled it part way, but he wasn't actually working at it. Instead he sat on a plastic chair, his head in one hand. And there was the brunette girl again, with a hand on his arm as she crouched next to him.

After a moment Hiccup took a deep breath and sat up straight, clearly trying to gather his composure.

Astrid approached, since it didn't look too much as though she would be intruding.

"I'm fine," she heard him saying. "I just got dizzy." He looked up and saw her, though she wasn't sure if he had heard her coming, her seen her in his periphery. Probably the latter, since the lab was so loud. "Uh, hi, Astrid."

"Is now a bad time?"

"No, sorry." He stood up. Something about the way he did so – particularly the way he set his feet – seemed strange, but she wasn't exactly why. He used his right foot almost exclusively, then shifted some of his weight onto his left only once he was sure he had his balance. "Astrid, this is my friend, Rapunzel. Rapunzel, Astrid."

"Hello," Rapunzel said. She had stood up a moment before Hiccup, and she was already picking up her messenger bag off the floor.

Astrid nodded, glad to finally have a name for the girl.

"You're sure you're okay?" Rapunzel asked Hiccup.

"You're as bad as my mother," he said, his grin softening at the words. "Yes, Rapunzel. I am as fine as usual.

Astrid might be wrong, but that phrasing didn't seem especially reassuring.

But Rapunzel accepted it, since she sighed as she gave Hiccup a quick hug. "I'll see you later. Have a good day, Astrid."

"Later," Hiccup said, a promise in his tone.

"Thanks," Astrid said, watching as Rapunzel walked away before she turned back to hiccup.

"She had to choose between art and nursing," Hiccup said, chuckling as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm kinda glad she chose art."

"I'll bet," Astrid said with a smirk. "If she'd gone with nursing, she'd have needles to poke you with."

Hiccup groaned. "All because I got dizzy. She'll probably tell my mom, who will make me drink a spoonful of molasses, because she'll think I'm iron deficient or something."

Astrid snickered.

After a moment, Hiccup shook off the subject and looked back at her. "Did you look at the sketches?"

"Yeah." She opened her messenger bag, pulling out the designs and flipping to the second one. "I like this one."

Hiccup nodded. "I thought about adding a hood, but I realized that wouldn't work very well on a motorcycle."

"Probably not."

She followed Hiccup over to his worktable, where he pushed the leather aside to make space. Setting the page on the table surface, he reached for the pencil he had left in the open pages of his notebook. He started to bring the pencil to him… then paused and flipped the notebook shut before he did so.

Before Astrid could think about the motion, Hiccup had already started talking about tapered versus straight sleeves, and she had to rack her brain to see if she had a preference for one of the other. (She didn't, so he said they could start with straight sleeves and bring them in if she wanted.)

She wondered if this was something normal people thought about, or if it was just because he was a designer of some type. Either way, there it was. He had made a note next to the wristband on the design.

They spent nearly twenty minutes going over the details.

With the neckline, at least, she knew exactly what she wanted: a collar that could flip up over her throat. Another note, then he was drawing quick lines to represent the collar she wanted.

"A buckle closure would be too heavy," he said thoughtfully, rubbing his jaw as he considered the design as though it were a puzzle.

Looked over at him, Astrid noticed the reddish brown stubble along his jaw. She quickly looked back down at the page, not sure why that left her slightly… embarrassed? No, not embarrassed. More, it had caused a flutter inside of her. The fact she didn't understand _why_ made her like the sensation even less.

"Couldn't the zipper just go all the way up?" she asked, focusing her attention back on the project at hand.

"Sure, but that's kind plain," he said.

Well, he had a point there.

"I'll figure that out later," he said. Then they were onto the exact fit of the jacket.

She had never realized just how much detail went into one jacket. They covered everything from the exact length of the sleeves, to whether or not she wanted the buckle at the bottom centered or off centered (off centered). Then the color (very dark brown).

"Do you need a down payment?" Astrid asked, when the stream up questions stopped, and Hiccup stood up straight.

"Just so I can buy the supplies," he said. "That and your measurements, and I can get started."

"You don't have enough here to get started?" she asked, half joking, as she gestured to the bold of leather that still sat just beyond him on the table. She was half hoping to find out what the heck it was all for.

"That… is already spoken for," he said, running his forehead. "Personal project."

Astrid quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the leather… but decided not to press it. She wasn't curious enough to ask out right.

The measuring process was quick, and he had her do her own torso measurements. He didn't look up from the page as he wrote down the numbers she read off.

They exchanged numbers so he could call her when they were ready for the first fitting, and she handed over a hundred dollar bill she had brought for just that purpose.

As she gathered up her things, Hiccup began rolling up the bolt of leather again. He was a few steps behind her when she left the lab, the bolt over his shoulder again.

"Aren't you gonna stay and work on that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I can work on it at home. And I have to go across town to get the stuff for your jacket."

When they reached the door, she held it open for him. They said good bye there, heading for different parking lots. But she glanced over her shoulder a couple times, so she saw him get into a truck parked in the nearest handicap spots.

She still couldn't figure out what to make of him.


	5. Chapter 5: Advance Shadows

**A/N goes here.**

Chapter 5: Advance Shadows

Jack pulled his motorcycle into the garage of the rand to find the place in a state of chaos. He quirked an eyebrow as he took in the scene.

Hiccup had pulled his worktable away from the wall so there was plenty of space to walk around it. A bolt of brown leather lay on the table, partly unrolled. Another, in a lighter shade, leaned against the wall in the corner. Tools were strewn across the workspace, scraps of leather already ont eh floor.

Hiccup and Toothless were both absent.

Parking his bike next to Merida's, he pulled off his helmet and gloves as he looked around.

The garage was spacious – originally intended to fit three cars with ease. But it hadn't held a car in as long as Jack had been there. It had been insulated and finished, hard wood laid on the floor, a few carpets set down strategically.

One car's worth of space was dedicated to Hiccup's work. The other two divided between motorcycle parking, the corner Toothless had claimed as his own, and the lounge area they had set up with a couch, an arm chair and a couple beanbags. A small television was turned on to the local news network whenever any of them was in the garage.

It was currently on, so Jack knew Hiccup probably hadn't gone very far. Her glanced at the screen, making sure there was nothing that needed his attention – and that Hiccup hadn't had to run off to some fight.

Sure enough, by the time he got his jacket off, Hiccup was coming back, trailed by the ebony colored dragon.

"I need there to be eight days in the week," Hiccup said, when he saw Jack. He returned to the work table and picked up his rotator knife. Popping the blade out, he replaced it with one he already held. He had probably gone to get the blade from the room. "And we need to finish the basement sooner than later."

Jack ignored the basement comment.

"That bad?" he asked, approaching the worktable.

"Toothless needs a new saddle, and a new tail," Hiccup said. "I also have to make a jacket for Astrid. I can't do both in a week, but the both need to be done this week. And I have class. And homework. And I have to take Toothless flying. And eat. And sleep. And fight maniacs."

It sounded like he needed ten days, not eight.

"Not now, Toothless," Hiccup sighed, since the dragon's head had popped up at the word "flying".

"We'll go tonight."

Toothless made a sound of obvious dissatisfaction deep in her throat as he curled up again.

Jack grinned. The dragon may not be able to speak, but he certainly made his opinions known as plainly as any of them. And Jack would laugh at anyone who suggested Toothless _wasn't_ intelligent.

After a moment, he looked back to Hiccup. "Is there any way I can help?"

Hiccup had turned his attention back to the leather, but he looked up with a lopsided grin. "You could try and stay out of trouble."

Jack smirked. "No promises." Though, internally, he resolved to avoid anything that was obviously trouble. When it was avoidable, of course. Because some things just weren't.

He started to go into the house so he could leave Hiccup to whichever project he was working on. He was on the steps up to the door when Hiccup spoke again, stopping him in his tracks.

"Rapunzel said you had a nightmare last night."

Hand on the doorknob, Jack stilled.

That wasn't exactly true. He hadn't had _a _nightmare. He had had three. Hence why he was still tired, despite the fact he had practically collapsed as soon as he had finished eating. And slept in so he was almost late for his first class. Which his psychology professor would not have been pleased about.

"Rapunzel worried too much," Jack reminded, not answering what hadn't actually been a question. "You know that."

Rapunzel was right on par with Valka when it came to mothering the ground. Well, Valka was the den mother. Rapunzel was the mother hen. Her worry over all of them was sweet, but seemingly endless. He and Hiccup guessed that it probably stemmed as much from her healing powers as it did from her personality.

"Sure," Hiccup agreed. "But the thing is, she's usually right." He pointed the rotator knife at Jack. "Especially when it comes to you, Mr. White Christmas."

Jack sighed. There was no response to that statement. Not one that wouldn't be incriminating, anyway.

"Come on, Jack. When are you going to trust us?"

"I do trust you." And he did.

"Just not when it counts," Hiccup countered.

It was unusually confrontational coming from Hiccup, who was usually the peacekeeper of the group.

"It was a bad dream," Jack said. "Yesterday was kinda traumatic, in case you forgot."

Hiccup laughed darkly. "How can I forget? Today in the lab I stumbled and got dizzy from the memory."

"And Rapunzel freaked out." It was usually safe to guess that Rapunzel was in the art lab.

"That's when Astrid chose to walk up, of course."

Jack snickered. It was almost tragic how Hiccup's luck went some times.

"I'm serious, Jack. If you're having nightmares—"

"It was just a bad dream." Or three. And they hadn't been that bad, really. Just disconcerting.

"That's not the pattern," Hiccup said. In his Night Fury tone, which left no room for argument.

Jack couldn't have responded, even if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to. He didn't want to think about what they both knew it probably meant – but which Jack desperately hoped wasn't the case.

"I'm gonna go see if Rapunzel wants help with dinner."

"You're dodging," Hiccup said, though he didn't look up from his work.

Yes, he was. And at that moment, he didn't especially care.

The three weeks since the semester had started had been fairly quiet. There had been no sign of their usual rogues gallery. The Stabbington Brothers were in prison, and Gothel wasn't really a threat without them. Drago was probably still licking his wounds from his most recent defeat. Mor'du was nowhere to be see. The cautious hope among all of them, and probably everyone in Burgess, was that Pitch's absence meant he was gone for good.

They weren't naïve enough to believe that last one. But they let themselves hope, since there had been no sign of him all summer.

Jack hoped more than the rest of them combined.

Yesterday had been one attack by Gothel. And she was more of an annoyance than a threat even on her worst day. And she hadn't even had the Stabbington Brothers with her.

One attack, he repeated to himself.

One attack should not mean anything.

But Jack couldn't shake the feeling that it did mean something.

And somehow, the fact that Hiccup's fall had been during a fight against Gothel, of all people, felt like a sign that something bad was coming.

Their quiet summer, and the near silence of the past few weeks, was over. And it felt as though everything they were used to was ending as well.

Jack wanted to pretend, at least for a little longer, that his bad dreams had been just that. Bad dreams as his brain tried to process the fact that his best friend had come so close to dying. It was a sound theory, and Jack resolved himself to ignore the voice in the back of his head that screamed at him that it was more. He just didn't want that to be the case.

Merida and Rapunzel were already in the kitchen, as he had guessed they would be. Well, Rapunzel wad in her kitchen, her hair the same as it had been at school. At the moment she was chopping up green onions. While Merida sat on the other side of the bar, keeping her company. Since the only cooking she seemed capable of was grilling. (Well, Jack should probably give her credit. She was pretty good at ordering take out.)

"Hey, Frostbite," Merida said, by way of greeting. "What took ya so long?"

"Until some people I could mention, I am taking college courses that require time and effort," Jack said.

Merida was majoring in some branch of physical education that Jack didn't fully understand. All he knew was that she didn't seem to do much in the way homework, unlike the rest of him.

"Oy!"

Smirking, Jack turned to Rapunzel. "Can I help with anything?"

Rapunzel looked around the kitchen, at the ingredients she had already prepped. "Could you cut up the chicken that's marinating in the fridge? And preheat the oven to 450?"

Jack nodded, pulling the metal bowl out of the fridge and removing the plastic wrap from the top.

He glanced over at Merida as he started cutting up the meat. "You remember that anti-super hero book I had to read last week?"

"The one by that stuck up jerk?" Merida asked. "South-somethin'-or-other?"

"Southisle," Jack sighed. "That one. Tremaine is apparently a big fan. Because she failed my essay and say I have to reread the book. On top of all my other homework. She kept me after class to explain this."

"Is she allowed to do that just because she didn't like your essay?" Rapunzel asked.

"Apparently," Jack sighed.

Their conversation for the rest of the evening was easy. No mention of Hiccup's fall, or anything to do with their costumed antics – except a brief discussion of the Southisle book that none of them wanted to discuss.

After dinner they focused on homework, and it was easy to think that all was right with the world.

A feeling that was only reinforced by the fact he slept through the night without bad dreams or nightmares. When he woke up, he decided that he had been over dramatic in thinking that everything was about to change.

Though a part of his mind didn't let him fully believe that.


	6. Chapter 6: Unusual Carpool

**Okay, let me get this out of the way. I really did try to write a motorcycle race. But no matter how many times I tried, it didn't have the right feel, or it didn't go in the right direction. Because of my current situation in life, I cannot (and will not) allow a fanfiction to cause me so much stress. And I would much rather keep the plot moving, then stall because of one scene that (while it would have been important to Astrid's character), would not be vital to the plot. **

**With that said, however, I really do hope that you enjoy this chapter, and that you continue to enjoy the story. Besides… this is when we really start getting to the main conflict.**

**(For this chapter, I do feel the need to mention that I'm getting ready to start college for fashion design – hence why I may have gone a little overboard.)**

Chapter 6: Unusual Carpool

"Congratulations," Hiccup said, when she answered the phone Sunday night.

Astrid snickered. "Yeah. 'Cause I won by such an impressive margin."

She could hear the bitterness in her own voice as she said it – the same bitterness she had been nursing ever since the end of Saturday's race. It had not gone the way she wanted, by any means.

"So, it's not good enough that you won?" Hiccup asked.

"By two feet?" She pulled open the door of her fridge and pulled out a yogurt. "No."

It sounded as though Hiccup were trying to hold back a laugh.

She didn't find it funny. Not after she had to listen to a lecture from her father on what she should have done better. Karl Hofferson seemed to be incapable of _not _talking like a couch – even when he didn't have half a clue what motorcycle racing was actually like. It was one of the reasons why she had moved into her own apartment.

And the margin…She would have ground her teeth if there wasn't a spoon in the way.

Astrid did not like the threat Vanellope von Schweetz presented to her position as the school's star racer. She had been racing Vanellope in the local circuit for almost three years. At first, she had enjoyed the challenge. Right up until the first time the girl beat her.

Then Vanellope had joined the college team.

"Is there a reason you called?" she asked, shaking off thoughts of the race, and the two foot margin that had given her a hollow victory.

The race had been the day before, so it was a little late for a congratulatory call. And they weren't friends, so that would have been strange anyway.

"Oh, yeah," he said, and she heard a sheepish smile in his voice. "Sorry. Do you have time for a fitting tomorrow?"

Right. The jacket.

"I have kickboxing at six," she said.

"Calhoun?" he asked.

"How did you know?" Not only did strange people know her name, but now Hiccup knew her schedule?

"I have a friend in the phys ed program," he said. "Calhoun is the only one with classes that late."

That made enough sense for her to let it go. She had never understood why Calhoun always had her classes late in the evening. Considering the woman's military bearings, it seemed more logical for them to be at six in the morning or something. But, no. They were always in the evening.

"Anyway," he went on. "Can you come by the lab about three?"

"Sure," she said, scraping yogurt from the bottom of the plastic cup with her spoon.

#

The rain started that night, sometime before she woke up. Judging from the puddle already accumulated in the parking lot outside her window, it had been going on for a few hours, at least. By noon, it was still going strong, the dark clouds heavy in the atmosphere. She had hoped it would ease up a little before she had to leave, but by noon she couldn't put off her errands any longer.

She grabbed the keys to her car as she headed out of her apartment, down the stairs to the parking lot. Since necessity demanded that she pay an exorbitant fee for a garage to house her motorcycles, she didn't pay for a parking spot under the overhang. Instead it was in one of the parking spots close to her garage unit… which mean she had to run across the parking lot, through the rain.

It wasn't raining herd enough for her to be soaked by the time she got to her car – but enough that she was uncomfortably wet. Water ran from her hair, down her temples and forehead.

Why hadn't she decided to go to school in California? Or somewhere where it didn't rain so much?

After a moment of shivering and wiping water off her face, she get the key into the ignition. Her first priority was getting the heater on,

She really wished she could have put going to the grocery store off until after school. But if she didn't go before class, he wouldn't want to go afterwards. The hard part about Calhoun's class.

Her errands took her across town before she finally got back to put her groceries in away. She had just enough time to make a sandwich and eat is before she had to head out again.

The rain was still falling hard a few minutes before 3pm, when she got to the school. Hiccup was already waiting for her at the door, a paper bag folded under his arm.

"There's a metal working class in the lab," he said, gesturing to the closed door with his free hand. "We can use one of the empty classrooms.

The less room he lead her to was obviously for the fashion program – if the dozen or so sewing machines that filled most of the room were any indication. As well as the dress forms in the back corner, clustered together like a gaggle of chatting girls.

Opening the paper bag, Hiccup pulled out and unfolded a plain, dark chocolate brown jacket. Actually, it didn't even qualify as a "plain jacket". It was more like the skeleton of a jacket. The pieces of leather were held together with a basting stitch, so there was some character created by the shape of it. But it had no lining, and few of the details that had been in the sketch.

Astrid looked at the thing skeptically.

"This is just to make sure the fit is right," Hiccup said, clearly reading the doubt in her face.

Neither her feelings or her expression changed.

"What? You think I'm gonna make a finished jacket just so I can take it apart if there's something wrong?" He rolled his eyes. "I have a life, you know."

"It looks like it will fall apart if I put it on," she said, still skeptical.

"Sure, if you tug at it too much," he said. "That's the point."

"If you say so." What did she know about jacket making, anyway?

She shrugged out of her old jacket, and Hiccup helped her carefully into the new one. He stepped back to survey his work, while Astrid turned to look at the floor length mirror on the wall.

"Not too shabby," he said, knuckles pressed to his chin. "A few tweaks, and we should be good. How are the sleeves?"

Astrid had been gently tugging at the cuffs, the hem, and the color, to adjust them. "Can you bring them in just like half an inch?"

He nodded.

"And can you make it a few inches long?"

Hiccup visibly hesitated, and she realized that would mean he had to cut more leather to replace most of the jacket body. But a moment later, she almost saw his brain racing behind his green eyes.

"What if I added a waistband?" he suggested. Holding his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart, he held them up to the bottom of the jacket.

Astrid considered the idea, trying to imagine what he was suggesting. Slowly, she nodded. "That'll work."

"Yeah, I should have thought about how you have to lean over on a bike," he said. "How's the collar?"

They spent nearly forty minutes going over the jacket, discussing small tweaks. Hiccup jotted them down quickly in his notebook. She asked for both the collar and the sleeves to be a little longer as well.

"I don't have classes tomorrow, so I can probably have it done by tomorrow," he said, as he folded the potential jacket up and returned it to the paper bag.

"I'm come by the lab Wednesday afternoon," she said, shrugging into her old jacket – for what would hopefully be one of the last times.

He nodded as they left the room. "I'll text you if something comes up, but it shouldn't."

She thought she saw a glimmer of doubt in his eyes as soon as he had said it, as though a thought had crossed his mind. But he didn't say anything else.

He waved as he headed towards the side door, while Astrid headed for the main door, which let out closest to the phys ed building. As she watched him walk away, she considered asking if he had finished whatever project he had been making with that huge bolt of leather… but the question seemed strangely personal, so she decided not to.

She spent a couple hours working on homework while she waited for six, but she was sell several minutes early to her class. As she walked in, she saw Professor Calhoun (often referred to Sergeant Calhoun by some students), over by the free weights. She was in conversation with a girl whose red hair surrounded her face like an aura. Blinking, Astrid recognized the lion's mane of curls she had seen leaving the phys ed building the week before. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she passed close enough by them to hear the red head's thick, Scottish accent.

She glanced back at them as she strapped on her workout gloves.

The red head was gone by the time class started.

Kickboxing II lasted an hour and a half, and Calhoun earned her sergeant nickname. She ran the entire athletics program, but only taught a few classes, and personally coached the motorcycle team. Her workouts were intensive and exhausting. Thought that was exactly why Astrid liked it.

By the time class ended, most of the students barely had the energy to get home. But Astrid found that, somehow, she still had energy to burn. Maybe because she needed an excuse not to go back to her empty apartment.

Clahoun said she had paperwork to do, so Astrid could stay and use the gym until she locked up.

Returning to the weight room, Astrid got on one of the four treadmills in back.

The lights in the weight room were all on, shining off the metal of the well maintained equipment. The air smelled like sweat and sanitizer. Boring the day there was always at least a couple people there. If there was a class going on, the teacher usually had some kind of motivational music going to set a fast pace. (Calhoun had banned any song from any _Rocky_ movie ever, though.)

At that moment, though, Astrid was alone.

There was something eerie about the stillness in the weight room. At first she was able to ignore it. But the sound of her own breath echoing off the white walls was starting to get to her.

No. She refused to be afraid of a brightly lit, empty room.

She increased the ramp's incline, forcing her thoughts to focus on her work out. One foot in front of the other, rubber soles smacking the treadmill's belt. Why hadn't she brought her iPod? It was in her backpack, on the other side of the room. But she didn't want to stop running to get it.

Instead, she pushed herself harder.

Because she was sick of reliving Saturday's race. Of thinking about how close she had come to losing.

Because she didn't she wasn't sure why she kept thinking about Hiccup. Strange, abstract thoughts she couldn't pin down; except that they were about him.

Because, a week later, her mind kept replaying Night Fury's fall. And she was getting really tired of it.

Over and over, out of nowhere, her mind would be taken over by the image of him and the dragon careening toward the ground. It was like the image had been set as the desktop background of her mind, and every so often she would accidentally wind up back there – with Night Fury front and center of her mind.

What was she supposed to do with that?

She still wasn't too keen on the Big Four. Which made it all the more annoying to find herself thinking about Night Fury.

Not just about the fall, either. But questions like: what happened to his left foot? Was there a reason he wore a helmet to cover his whole face, when his companions only wore domino masks? Was he just extra careful of his identity? Was his foot not the only thing he was missing? Or was it just to protect his face from the wind when he flew? And where did he hide a dragon when they weren't fighting freaks? Did he have an actual life outside of that?

She didn't like all these thoughts. Because she didn't want to know. Because she didn't want to care.

But she kind of did. She didn't know why, but she did.

The only person she knew who actually thought of them as heroes was her brother Anders – but he hadn't answered the one time she had broken down and tried to call and talk about it.

Where was he stationed right now, anyway? Was it awful that she had lost track of where her favorite brother was? Their family had never made that big a deal about closeness. She remembered the last time he had been transferred she had checked to make sure that he wasn't in an actual war zone, then promptly forgotten the country. (It had been during the peak of racing season, while she had been preparing for nationals.)

Those thoughts did not help.

She ran in the hope she would reach a point of exhaustion where she wouldn't think about any of it anymore.

She missed a step.

Gasping, her heart skipped a beat as she felt herself falling. She grabbed onto the hand grips, her feet acting on their own to reestablish their rhythm. He nose probably wouldn't enjoy a collision with the control panel.

Before it could happen again, she bracer her feet on the unmoving sides of the belt, and hit the power button.

Her heart still pounded from the shock of her near fall as much as from exertion. Her chest rose and fell as her lungs worked to ensure fresh oxygen was constantly supplied to the blood racing its way through the four cylinders of her heart.

Her legs shook as she gathered her things and left the weight room, and the athletic building.

The rain had finally stopped, but the air was still heavy with moisture. Most of the clouds had clears, so the stars in the black sky could be seen overhead. Large clouds still lingered, though, with a strange lighting that made them look surreal. Her jacket was still in her gym bag, but her skin was still so heated from her run that she barely felt the cold night air.

Her car was still in the parking lot adjacent to the arts building, so she had to walk across the lawn that stretched between the two buildings. A few lampposts to illuminated the expansive space, but not enough to fight back even a majority of the shadows.

Astrid wasn't afraid of the dark. But like every human being with a functioning self preservation instinct, she had a healthy wariness of it. Especially since she lived in Burgess, where anything could be lurking in the shadows.

And at the moment, she really wasn't enjoying her walk across the dark, empty courtyard.

A couple times she thought she heard something – a whisper or a rustling. But when she looked back, there was nothing that could have caused it. There wasn't even a tree on the lawn, so there were no leaves that would scrape against each other.

She chastised herself for being jumpy. But she was still relieved when she stepped onto the sidewalk, and into a pool of light.

Then she was in the parking lot. Why were the lights spaced so far apart? You'd think a university that charged so much for tuition would be able to afford sufficient lighting for the parking lots.

Halfway to her car, she heard something she couldn't deny. A sound she couldn't identify. But one she decided then and there that she really didn't like.

Turning toward the sound, toward the edge of the next building, her stomach clenched in trepidation. A small – tiny – part of her mind pointed out that the sensible thing to do would be to run to her car and beat a hasty retreat. That was not cowardly, it was sensible. And she agreed.

For some reason, however, she wasn't moving.

Around the far corner of the next building came a blue glow.

A blue glow she knew very well because of all the times she had watched the video of Night Fury's fall.

A moment later, a black and blue clad figure flew into view, illuminated by the glow of his own ice as he flew backwards.

Jack Frost flipped in midair, like a swimmer doing a turn under water.

Astrid couldn't shake a momentary thought of "woah", as she watched the way he moved.

Then she realized that he was fighting. And fighting hard.

Now really would be an excellent time to run… but she still wasn't running. Why, she had no idea. She only knew that she wasn't running.

Then she saw _what_ he was fighting.

At first glance, it looked like a black horse. An anemic black horse, if your first glance was good. Then the next look revealed that the horse's body wasn't quite right. Rather than flesh and blood, it was made up of black sand that streamed behind it, its back legs sometimes losing form entirely.

Astrid might not follow the Big Four's fights, but she had lived in Burgess long enough to recognize a Nightmare with only one glance. Until that moment, she had been fortunate enough never to have seen one in person.

Frost careened into the parking lot, more Nightmares coming from around the science building. A slick of ice formed on the tarmac as he flew over it.

She was trying to tell her legs to start moving when he saw her and pulled to an abrupt halt.

"What are you doing here?"

Astrid tried to respond, looking over to her car, then back to Frost.

"Oh sweet vanilla," Frost muttered. He started to say something else, but spun on his heel (still in mid air) to face the Nightmares that were catching up to him.

He cut through the air with his hand, and a bolt of ice mimicked the motion. It cut through one horse, which dissolved, The others reared back out of the way.

"Go!" Frost commanded, without looking back.

Astrid turned to do just that, her feet finally regaining the ability to move… only to find her way blocked by a another group of Nightmares. They weren't quite between her and her car – but that was clearly where they were heading.

"Uh, Frost?"

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Great," he said sarcastically. "You must be as scared as I am."

Under normal circumstances, she would have snapped back. But her eyes were locked on the Nightmares creeping closer to her.

"Do you trust me?" Frost asked suddenly.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Do you?" he asked.

"No." Though the moment she said it, she remembered that he was the one who had saved Night Fury. Of course, Night Fury was his friend and/or teammate, while she was a stranger.

Of course, it was undeniable that they had saved a lot of strangers over the past few years…

"Least that's settled," he said, with a cocky grin.

The next moment he was in front of her, a surge of ice shooting between them and her car. It knocked the Nightmares out of the way.

Frost grabbed her wrist. "Run!"

She didn't need to be told twice. And adrenaline kept her muscles from complaining too much.

Around her wrist, Frost's hand was as cold at ice. No surprise.

The Nightmares had already begun to regroup by the time they made it to her car.

Frost shot another bolt of glowing ice while she hit the unlock button on the remote and pulled open the door.

"Uh, can I get a ride?" he asked, from behind her.

She didn't have time to think as she slid into the driver's seat.

"Get in," she said, before slamming her door shut.

He pulled open the back door and got in. "I owe you."

"That's what they all say," she muttered.

Frost climbed between the seats to sit up front while she turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life.

She didn't bother backing out of her space. She just drove straight through the one in front of her and curved back around towards the exit.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she countered.

"I thought the parking lot would be empty!" he said. "It's almost nine o'clock."

"I'm a student," she said, since that should have been obvious.

He rolled his eyes. "The school closes at eight."

How did he even know that?

"Why am I giving you a ride?" she changed the subject. "Wouldn't it be faster to fly?"

"Not with them on my tail," he said, glancing through the back windshield. "Why are they here, anyway?"

"It's Burgess," she reminded.

"I know – but why are the Nightmares _here_, at the college?" he asked. "There's no one here."

She didn't bother trying to understand, let alone come up with an answer.

"Are they following us?"

"It doesn't matter," he said. "They can't get into the car." Which didn't really answer her question.

But when she glanced in her rearview mirror, she didn't see any Nightmares.

"I don't know why I even let _you_ in the car," she muttered.

Frost snickered.

He was enjoying this.

"Where am I taking you?" she asked, as they came to the edge of the campus.

He pulled a phone from somewhere in his blue and black cat suit. "Forth and Traction, apparently. Why there?"

"Downtown?" she asked, assuming the question wasn't aimed at her.

"The general direction," he said.

"What's going on there?" she asked warily. She had objections to driving into some kind of war scene.

"Something bad, probably," he said. "Braveheart's not big on details."

Astrid shook her head. "I can't believe you said 'Braveheart' with a straight face."

He snickered again. "Believe me, it took a few months."

She took the right turn out of the campus harder than necessary, hoping to rattle him a little. But he seemed un-phased.

Checking in the rearview again, she let out a deep breath when she didn't see any Nightmares.

Forth and Traction was almost a forty minute drive, and it made it all of five before she asked:

"Is Night Fury okay? After the fall?" There hadn't been any sign of him (or any of the others) for the past week.

Frost chuckled, though she wasn't sure why that would be funny. "He's fine. Toothless, too."

"Toothless?"

"The dragon," Frost said, leaning back in his seat. His domino mask didn't have lenses over his eyes, so she could see that he had closed them.

"The dragon's name is Toothless?"

"I did not pick it," he said. "I haven't dared ask how old Night Fury was when he picked it."

"Why the cat suit?" she asked after a moment, needing something else to talk about.

"Skintights," he corrected.

Astrid rolled her eyes. He was the only one of the four who wore a cat suit. From his looks, which could make out around the domino mask, she realized he might just be vain.

"Doesn't it get uncomfortable?" she asked. "Or, you know, embarrassing?"

He shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"But why would you choose that?"

"I didn't," he said. "I was wearing it before I joined the Big Four."

"Right. When you were a thief."

"Uh-huh." Somehow, just that was enough for his tone to say "I won't bother to correct you."

Astrid was seriously wondering _why_ she was giving him a ride - especially since his attitude was confirming her belief that the Big Four were more interested in attention than helping people. Effectively killing the sympathetic thoughts Night Fury's fall had planted in her mind.

But she kept driving towards the glow that was the never sleeping lights of Burgess City. As they got closer, she could see the silhouettes of the skyscrapers that made up the city. She kept expecting to see police cars, ambulances, or some sign of the press. But there was nothing so far.

"Shouldn't there be some sign of… something?" she asked, as they took the traction exit off the freeway and headed into the city.

"It might not have gotten out of hand yet," Frost said, leaning forward to look out the windshield.

"Maybe it'll stay that way," she muttered.

"We can wish," he said. "let me out here."

Astrid didn't hesitate to pull up to the sidewalk, and Frost got out.

"Thanks, Astrid," he said. "Just in case, you might wanna head home." And then he was gone, flying down an alley in search of his teammates.

She was back on the freeway before she realized that he had used her name, and she was positive she hadn't mentioned it.

It was getting really frustrating how everyone seemed to know her name.


	7. Chapter 7: Split Screen

**This was not supposed to take so long… but life has been hectic of late. **

**I do feel I should mention: I'm not a fan of **_**Frozen**_**. I tried very hard to find another option for the character who appears in this chapter. I didn't really want **_**Frozen**_** showing up in this story, despite all the other movies I've brought in. But there is no one else who worked for this role. There are no Disney or DreamWorks characters I am familiar enough with to fill such a slimy, annoying role. **

**And, no, the word "vigilanteism" does not exist. But I needed it. And in a world with superhero vigilantes, it probably would become an actual word.**

**Okay, on with the show. **

Chapter 7: Split Screen

Astrid couldn't get home fast enough. Only once she had turned on her TV to the local news did she shed her damp jacket. Maybe whatever happened could be contained, and it wouldn't end up on the news. But she highly doubted that.

Sure enough, there they were.

Or, there _she_ was. Sun Flower was the only one on the screen, along with her seventy feet of glowing blonde hair. She wore her usual violet cargo pants, and a purple shirt with her gold sun emblem on the front.

Taking a seat on the edge of the couch, Astrid watched as Sun Flower expertly handled a rope of her hair like a glowing whip. The end struck a Nightmare, which dissolved away to nothing. In the movement, she snapped her hair back to a Nightmare that had been coming up behind her.

When Astrid had first watch the Big 4 fight – that fight against Frost three years earlier – Sun Flower had been the most hesitant. Night Fury and Braveheart hadn't known how to fight _together_, but they had an idea how to fight. But Sun Flower barely seemed to know what she was doing. Or even _why_ she was doing it.

Now, as with the others, it was a completely different story. She moved with the benefit of experience – and some kind of training. Astrid was sure of that.

She had already taken out five Nightmares by the time Braveheart appeared at her back. An ally behind her didn't seem to impede her movements at all.

Braveheart fired arrow after arrow at anything she could set her sights on. Sun Flower's hair lashed this way and that around them, the glow filling air.

Astrid was so engrossed in watching, it took her a few minutes to realize there was no sign of Frost. The buildings in the background indicated they were in the vicinity of Fourth and Traction, near where she had dropped him off. But where was he? Where was Night Fury, for that matter?

She couldn't deny that Night Fury was the one she really wanted to see, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

As if in response to her question, the feed cut to a second camera. There was a second fight, a few blocks further down.

Frost ran along the edge of a warehouse roof. The way his body swayed, his powers of flight had to be the only thing keeping him up there. Tendrils of white frost spread down the front of the building, marking his path.

A few steps behind him, down on the street, galloped a handful of Nightmares.

When Frost reached the end of the roof, he jumped off the warehouse. He had surpassed the Nightmares, and as he flew across the street he created a wall of ice in the crosswalk. The black creatures were forced to rear up on their hind legs and turn back.

But when they turned, Night Fury flew towards them. The dragon's wings were extended, taking up most of the street, so there was no place for them to go. His mouth was open, teeth bared. A glow started in the back of the dragon's throat, building to a plasma blast that took out all seven Nightmares.

Frost was already back on the roof, avoiding the heat of the flames, and already moving.

Astrid leaned forward, watching as the two friends/teammates moved down the street, followed by a news camera in a helicopter. She didn't even bother listening as the reporter offered a commentary on the fight.

The footage switched back and forth between the two fights, focusing on whichever the station deemed more exciting in that moment.

Braveheart and Sun Flower were no longer back to back. The archer had taken to darting around the street, grabbing up arrows to reuse. She hit her targets, Nightmares disintegrating as they were struck. But sooner or later, she would wear herself out.

Agitation built up in Astrid's bloodstream, and she started to fidget. She was tempted to get up and start pacing, but didn't want to miss anything.

This was why she hated spectator sports.

Frost and Night Fury crisscrossed the streets, taking on pockets of Nightmares. They seemed to be trying to reach the other half of their team, but more of the monsters appeared every time they got close, keeping them a couple blocks away.

They were all efficient, the creatures dissolving. But they didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

After a while, the station seemed to decide that the seemingly endless fight wasn't enough to make good television. Reducing the live footage to a cut away in one corner of the screen, they went to a panel of experts gathered in the studio. Astrid didn't know what made them experts, but they certainly used a lot of big words and convoluted sentences.

For the most part they were older, balding men, with PhDs in obscure fields. When their names flashed across the bottom of the screen, they were usually followed by a lot of letters that made no sense to her.

As far as she could tell, it was the usual talk. The Big 4 were a bad influence, who promoted mindless violence. One of the doctors was throwing around words like "megalomania", "vigilantieism", and "self aggrandizing".

Rolling her eyes, Astrid went to the kitchen to find something to eat. It was exactly what her father said about the Big 4 – except without all the SAT vocabulary words.

Her can of soup was almost done heating by the time the man stopped talking.

Astrid looked over at the TV, just in time to see the camera pan to the fourth person at the table – the only one under the age of fifty. He was maybe twenty-seven, his red hair combed back perfectly. By some standards he might have been handsome, with broad shoulders and noble features. Though his sideburns had probably gone out of style a couple centuries ago. He wore a sleek, blue-grey suit.

Hans Southisle, the helpful writing at the bottom of the screen told her. Author of "Magic and Dragons: The Dangers of Vigilanteism". Astrid had never heard of it, but it sounded boring.

As soon as Southisle started talking, she realized it probably wasn't just boring. It was probably arrogant, and self-serving, too. What was the phrase that one guy had used? Oh, yeah. Self aggrandizing.

"With all respect, Doctor," he said, though he didn't sound very respectful. "I think you're missing the bigger picture here. For years, people have talked about the negative influence these so called 'heroes' have on our society. And, while I agree, that is a problem, I think everyone is overlooking the truly important questions."

Translation: "I'm the only person asking the right questions."

Astrid rolled her eyes.

"What are these people?" Southisle asked. "One has seventy feet of glowing hair? One flies a dragon? These people are—"

"I'm sorry, Hans, we'll have to stop there," the news anchor interrupted, just before Astrid lost all patience. (She never had been a very patient person.) "We're receiving reports from downtown that the fight had taken a rather dramatic turn."

The on-location footage took over the screen again (_finally_, Astrid thought).

The Big 4 were all together on one street. Well, Jack Frost was on top of another warehouse, while Night Fury flew low over the street. (Astrid was still trying to come to grip with the fact that the dragon's name was _Toothless_, of all things.) The girls were the only ones actually _on_ the street.

The dramatic part was that they were caged in by Nightmares, who came at them from both ends of the block.

Astrid finally realized what felt off about the fight.

If the Nightmares were there… where was Pitch Black? She didn't know, but it seemed as though he should be there, directing his troops or something.

But there was no sign of him. No sign of any other villain, either.

And the Nightmares were focused entirely on the Big 4, rather than searching for bystanders to torment, the way they normally did.

Again, Astrid might not know much about Big 4 fights. But none of that sounded good.

#

"You realize this is a distraction, right?" Jack asked, through the earpieces that kept them all connected.

Hiccup glanced over, to where Jack was crouched on top of a warehouse, catching his breath in this moment they had to regroup. Like all of them, he was starting to show signs of fatigue.

Hiccup's hands tightened around the metal grips of the saddle. The worn leather creaked.

It was becoming painfully obvious that Jack was right. There were plenty of Nightmares to keep them busy. But that was all they were doing.

And there was the glaring absence of Pitch.

Hiccup hadn't been complaining about that. At least, not until he realized that that meant they had no clue where he was, or what he was doing.

That thought was rather terrifying.

"A distracting from what though?" Hiccup asked, bringing Toothless around for another lap over the street.

"That's what scare—" Jack stopped, no doubt eyeing the Nightmares closing in around them. Certain words were best avoided. "That's what I want to know."

Best not to think about fear in the presence of one Nightmare, let alone however many they were up against. They would grab onto any fear, and once they got a hold of a thought, it was almost impossible to shake. Hiccup could feel their presence skirting around the edges of his mind, looking for any chink in his mental defenses. For anyway to send him into a downward spiral of terror and depression.

Jack knew all of that better than any of them.

And they all knew more than they wanted to.

"I don't like it," Merida said.

"Neither do I," Hiccup admitted.

He also didn't like that the Nightmares had mostly come to a stop. They seemed to be waiting to see what would happen. But that wasn't normal for Nightmares.

"Any ideas?" jack asked.

Hiccup sighed. They needed a plan… he just didn't feel as though he had enough to formulate a plan. Fatigue wore at the edges of his mind, fraying thoughts even as he tried to form them.

"How many shots do you have left?" Jack asked.

"Two," Hiccup said. Toothless had used four of his six shots. But as tired as the dragon was getting, he might only have enough energy for one.

They neared the edge of the street again, and started to turn before the Nightmares thought they were trying to make a break for it. He went to adjust Toothless's prosthetic tail fin for the curve, with the gears attached to his own prosthetic foot.

The gears stalled.

Toothless made a sign of concern as their flight faltered.

"Hand on," Hiccup said, fighting his own panic. Not again. "Hang on!"

He jerked his foot, and the gears moved the way he wanted. The fin angled properly, and they returned to their previous elevation as they finished the curve.

"The cameras are gonna love that," he muttered.

"Are you alright?" Rapunzel asked.

"Yeah." He injected more confidence into his voice than he actually felt. "Yeah. Just… mild calibration issues."

A momentary issue. But a moment that had lasted long enough to set his heart pounding against his ribcage.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to act as though it had never happened. To _not_ remember his fall from a week earlier. He couldn't dwell on it. Not with nearly a hundred Nightmares on the ground.

Thankfully, Jack was good in moments like this.

"If we blast out, what happens next?" Jack asked, picking up exactly where they had left off.

"We go home and do homework?" Merida suggested. She actually sounded enthusiastic about the idea.

"What will Pitch do?" Hiccup asked.

The connection was silent, save for the static that surrounded their exhales.

Hiccup took extra care shifting the gears as they made the next turn.

No problems.

He sighed in relief.

Just like he had said. A momentary issue.

"We have to do something," Merida muttered.

"Agreed." Jack nodded.

Action was one of the few things Jack and Merida ever agreed on.

"We can't keep standing here," Rapunzel said. "I think we should blast out and see what happens."

Maybe someday they would learn how to come up with actual strategies.

"Let's do it," Hiccup said.

Merida knocked an arrow in her bow, pulling the string back. Rapunzel adjusted her grip on her hair.

The Nightmares had been surprisingly still, save for the never ceasing black streamers that bent and swirled in the breeze. A breeze that picked up as Jack prepared to dive in.

At the movement from the girls, the Nightmares began to shift as well, pawing the ground and throwing their heads back with shrill whinnies.

Rapunzel made the first move, whipping her hair through three Nightmares.

The broke the spell, and they were all moving again. Merida fired two quick shots, and Jack dived in with a spray of glowing blue ice. The three of them all took on the Nightmares coming from the north.

Hiccup and Toothless turned in midair to takes the ones from the south. Toothless breathed a plasma blast that took out a sizable number of the Nightmares. Even in the saddle, Hiccup from the heat from the blast.

They were coming in low over the street, Hiccup trying to calculate the best angle for their last shot, when he felt the gears lock up again.

Just as something snapped. He didn't hear the snap. But he felt the sudden loss of tension between the saddle and the prosthetic fin.

Toothless howled as they fell to the street. Only a few feet this time – not even five. But they still hit the tarmac hard. Hiccup grunted from the impact, and heard Toothless make a sound of pain. As he rolled to a stop, his leather armor kept his skin from being scraped open. But the leather would probably never be the same. One more thing for his to do list.

His helmet stayed on, thankfully.

When he came to a stop, he looked over at Toothless, to be sure his friend was okay.

The dragon was a few feet away, just rolling up into a sitting position. He wiped a paw over his nose, then shook his head. He looked incredibly displeased.

Not that Hiccup blamed him.

A cold hand grabbed his arm, pulling him up even as it sent shivers down his spine.

"Get up," Jack said.

It was impossible to ignore Jack when he was the mature, in charge one. Hiccup didn't really feel up to standing just yet. But the next thing he knew, he was on his feet.

Jack kept a hand on his arm just long enough for Hiccup to regain his balance.

The five of them were on the street… and the Nightmares seemed to have increased in the minutes since Hiccup had fallen. The dent he had made in their numbers was now filled in.

Their plan to blast out wouldn't work so well now that he and Toothless were earthbound. Hiccup removed the handle strapped to his right thigh, adjust his grip before he flicked the release switch. The wire frame extended in three sections, igniting as soon as it came into contact with the air.

Toothless came closer to his side, growing deep in his throat.

Jack, on the other hand, edged away from the heat of the blade.

"Plan B," Merida muttered.

Right. Because they weren't practically helpless without a dragon that could actually fly. Hiccup wasn't sure that they had any advantage at that moment. Not against these numbers.

"We can still blast through," Rapunzel said. But even she sounded skeptical.

Hiccup shook his head. "Without elevation, we can't wipe them all out."

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm already worn out," Jack said. He pulled up the hood of his costume. That could only mean he was too exhausted to maintain his powers, and his hair was likely to turn back to brown at any moment.

Maybe that had been Pitch's plan: wear them down and take them out.

Hiccup was distracted from those depressing thoughts when one of the Nightmares whinnied… and they all dissolved to nothing.

Toothless jerked back onto his hind legs, sitting up as he looked around.

"That's what I wanna know," Jack said.

"Has that ever happened?" Merida asked.

"No," Jack said.

They looked around the street, but there was no sign of the Nightmares.

The news cameras were still very much there, however.

"We need to get out of here," Hiccup said, turning back to look over the saddle.

"Can you fix it?" Rapunzel asked.

"Enough to get home," he said, pulling a length of leather cord from a pocket.

"Don't take long," Jack said grimly.

The sound of sirens, along with the flash of red and blue lights, got closer.


	8. Chapter 8: Mother's Counsel

**Updating quickly because 1) this chapter is short; 2) because of the long delay between chapters 6 and 7.**

**Just when I think I'm done coming up with small ways to torture Jack…**

**Anyway – guess what happens next chapter! **

Chapter 8: Mother's Counsel

Hiccup had known for months that he needed to make a new saddle. Several times he had resolved to do so – going through his sketchbooks and ideas to create an improved design. But something always came up to demand his attention, both as Hiccup, and as Night Fury.

The week before, he had finally finished a design he was happy with, and he had finally bought a bolt of leather. He had promised himself, and Toothless, that he would get it done.

But no sooner had he been about to start, than Astrid had walked in. It hadn't even crossed his mind to say "no" to her request. Not when it was _Astrid_.

He had known that putting her order first wasn't the smartest move. Now he knew exactly how unwise it had been.

Toothless currently lay curled on the carpet by the couch, no longer wearing the saddle. Judging from the glares he occasionally shot in Hiccup's direction, he knew this whole ordeal could have been avoided. Rapunzel had healed his scrapes, but that didn't stop him from pouting.

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

All he got in response was a dragon snort. A definite "no".

"Thought not," Hiccup sighed, going back to the leather he had spread out over the workbench.

"What happened?" Valka asked, coming through the house door. She carried two steaming mugs, one of which she held out to Hiccup.

"Thanks," he said, accepting the mug. "You haven't seen the news?"

"I haven't had a chance," she said. "Though Jack is passed out in the living room."

Hiccup grinned wryly. But the expression faded.

"I got stupid," he admitted. "I didn't do what I knew I should have done." The tea was still too hot to drink, but he sniffed at it to determine the flavor. Apple cinnamon. The sweet and spicy scent made his mouth water, and he wondered how long it had been since he last ate. Too long, probably.

Rapunzel had started throwing ingredients into the slow cooker as soon as they got home, saying it would be their dinner. Hiccup had barely registered it as he went to take a shower, and completely forgotten about it until now.

Valka came around the workbench, looking over the leather, and the open pages of his journal.

His mother's knowledge of dragons put him to shame, even when it came to Toothless. But she wasn't an engineer. The plan he had drawn up for the new saddle probably didn't mean much to her, except that she knew what it would become. (It probably didn't help that his short hand notes had evolved into his own kind of code.)

Toothless growled, making his displeasure known. The loose translation was probably: "Do you see what your offspring puts me through?"

Valka looked over at Toothless for a moment, before she turned back to Hiccup, clearly putting the pieces together. "That's the second time this week."

"Exactly a week," Hiccup said. It felt as though that first fall had been months ago – but sometimes it felt as if it had been just the day before.

Valka didn't speak for a minute or two, taking a careful sip of her tea as she looked over the tools on the work bench.

Hiccup braced himself for what he knew was coming.

"Have you started to get careless, Hiccup?"

Braced for the words or not, the chastisement still stung.

Hiccup exhaled, looking over at the ruined saddle he had dumped into the corner.

Just a few hours ago, he would have said no. But if that was true, he wouldn't have had so many near misses lately. It was kind of obvious when he looked at it logically.

Valka wasn't the lecturing type – she was the exact opposite of his father that way – so she let him stew in those thoughts for a minute before she rested a hand on his shoulder. It took him another moment to meet the concern in her blue green eyes.

"I've never disapproved of this, Hiccup," she said. "You know I'm proud of what you've done. All of you. But you cannot afford to be careless. This city needs your team, and your team needs you." She sighed. "And I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"I'm sorry," he said, ducking his head in apology.

"Just be careful," Valka said. "That's all I ask."

"I thought I was," he said. Though hindsight made it clear just how naïve that had been. "I just got…"

He waved a hand through the air, trying to think of the right word. Because he really didn't like the first one that came to mind. Unfortunately, he had to admit that it was the truth.

"I got distracted."

He was pretty sure there were proverbs about the dangers of being distracted by a beautiful girl.

His mother hummed in a knowing way he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

"The name Astrid has been mentioned a few times of late," she said, taking a too-casual sip of her tea.

Hiccup took a drink of his own, hoping to hide what Jack called his dopey grin.

"She's the one you've had a crush on since middle school, if I remember correctly."

"More like elementary school." Embarrassing, but true.

From the corner of his eye he saw her smile, and expected some kind of teasing. But when she spoke a moment later, her tone was once more serious.

"You need rest, Hiccup," she said. "Leave this for tomorrow. Come eat, and get some sleep. Rapunzel left soup in the slow cooker."

Over in the corner, Toothless's crown twitched. He lay with his back to them (probably still pouting), but Hiccup knew the dragon was listening to every word.

Taking another sip, Hiccup looked over the workbench. Everything on it could be left out overnight, and the main door was already locked. All that was left was to turn off the light.

"You comin', Toothless?" he asked, pretending he didn't already know the answer. Toothless hated being left alone in the garage.

Toothless feigned nonchalance as he stood up, stretched, and meandered over to the door. Like a cat, trying to pretend that is hadn't been his human's idea.

Hiccup exchanged amused glances with his mother, then followed Toothless into the house. Valka kissed his temple as she said goodnight, heading upstairs to her own room, while Hiccup went into the kitchen.

The living room was dark, save for the glow of the TV. Jack was passed out on the couch, his hair brown. Someone (Rapunzel probably), had draped one of the throw blankets over him.

In the kitchen, the stove light was on, creating a pool of illumination just large enough to show the slow cooker plugged in on the counter. Hiccup didn't know what kind of soup it was, but he didn't especially care. The aroma went straight to his head, making him realize just how hungry he was. He ladled a large bowlful, then started towards his room.

In the living room he paused, debating is he should wake Jack up, or at least turn off the news.

"I was right," Jack said suddenly, without opening his eyes.

"I hate when you do that," Hiccup said, once his heartbeat recovered from the spike of surprise.

Jack grinned darkly.

Hiccup had never figured out if Jack was just a light sleeper, if he faked sleep, or if there was some other trick. No matter how sure he was that Jack was asleep, he was usually proved wrong.

"Right about what?" he asked, finally registering what Jack had actually said.

"It was a distraction." Jack finally opened his eyes, exhaling as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he hadn't been asleep, but he had been close, judging by the haziness of his normally sharp eyes. "I literally cannot see as well with brown eyes. I hate it."

"You're probably just tired."

Jack shook his head. "I see differently. Everything is sharper when I have blue eyes. Everything is bluer, too. I never figured that out."

After a moment, he shook his head again, and took a deep breath. "Sorry. While we were downtown, Pitch broke Gothel, Drago, and the Stabbington brothers out of prison. He freed a whole cellblock, but I think it's a safe bet those are the ones he wanted."

"The people who hate us most," Hiccup said. "Of course."

Jack made a sound of agreement as he hit the power button on the remote, and the TV turned off. Standing up, he stretched his arms over his head. "They're blaming us, of course. And I'm getting' really tired of Southisle's smug face."

Hiccup nodded, as they both started down the hallway, towards the bedrooms.

"On that happy note," Jack said, opening his door. "Good night, Hiccup."

"Good night," Hiccup said, more from habit than anything else.

Toothless was already in his corner of Hiccup's room, fast asleep.

Hiccup barely finished his soup before he joined the dragon in dreamland.


End file.
